


A Little Misunderstanding

by mymishaandjensenfic (ljunattainable)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: First Kiss, Hurt Misha, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-18 20:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2361389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ljunattainable/pseuds/mymishaandjensenfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It was his fault that Misha fell. Jensen was supposed to catch him - Dean was supposed to catch Cas as Cas stumbled forward. Jensen has no idea what happened except that for one moment as he watched Misha falling towards him, Jensen thought he saw something in Misha’s gaze, and completely forgot where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. For one moment he misunderstood, thinking that Misha was leaning in to kiss him."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Misunderstanding

**Author's Note:**

> previously posted on [tumblr](http://mymishaandjensenfic.tumblr.com) to this prompt:  
> 

That’s blood, real blood not the fake corn syrup stuff, that’s dribbling down Misha’s temple, and past his eyebrow. In fact, dribbling’s kind of an understatement. Jensen thinks he’s going to be sick. Twisting on his heel so fast he nearly trips over, he turns away from the scene - Jared, Phil, Brad… half a dozen people rushing to gather around Misha, asking if he’s okay, helping him up, holding him steady. The noise is a cacophony that deafens Jensen and by some supernatural quirk it just seems to get louder as he hurtles, uncoordinated, out of the door.

It was his fault that Misha fell. Jensen was supposed to catch him - Dean was supposed to catch Cas as Cas stumbled forward. Jensen has no idea what happened except that for one moment as he watched Misha falling towards him, Jensen thought he saw something in Misha’s gaze, and completely forgot where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. For one moment he misunderstood, thinking that Misha was leaning in to kiss him, and for that one moment he leant forward to kiss him back. Then he realized what he was doing and he panicked and he leapt back so fast that Misha fell into the lighting stand face-first because Jensen wasn’t there to catch him.

And then there was blood. Jensen’s not normally even a little bit squeamish but he gags at the memory of Misha’s face and the rivulets of dark, red blood trailing down the side of his face to drip off his chin.

Jensen slows to a walk, then to a stop and bangs his forehead against the side of a truck. He should go back. God knows what everyone thinks with him running off like that, not to mention Misha could be really hurt.

He looks back the way he came. One of the ADs is running out of the building at a jog, not urgent but hurried, and he can see the lights streaming out of the open door. He can still hear the babbling of many voices but there’s no panicked yelling and shouting of desperate instructions so he concludes that Misha’s going to live. He decides the damage to his reputation is already done, and the apologies to Misha can come later. He turns away and heads to his trailer.

Which is where Jared finds him ten minutes later. There’s a knock on the door, and then the door’s opened wide. Jared barges in.

“Are you okay?” Jared looks as if he’s not sure whether to be worried or annoyed as he makes a beeline for Jensen, plonking himself down on the couch next to Jensen and twisting so that he can look at Jensen directly. “Why’d you run off?”

Jensen shakes his head. He doesn’t know why he ran off. He has no idea what the hell happened either before or after the accident.

“Is Misha okay?”

Jared glares like he knows Jensen intentionally deflected his question, but he answers begrudgingly anyway. “He’s okay. They’re getting a doctor to make sure but you know how head wounds bleed. It looks worse than it is.” Jared pauses. “He’s asking for you.“

“It was my fault, Jared. He probably wants to hit me over the head with a hammer for revenge,” Jensen mutters. Like why the hell would Misha be asking for him otherwise? Jensen might have killed him. Jensen must be the last person Misha wants to see. He tries to sink further into the corner of the couch, arms folded tight across his chest.

Jared screws up his face as if he’s trying to work out particularly complicated mathematical equations and eventually he replies. “I’m fairly sure he doesn’t care it’s your fault. You’re his whatever-you-are, Jensen, of course he’d ask for you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude,” Jensen mumbles. He's not really paying attention if truth be told, his mind wandering back to images of Misha cursing and bloody.

“You and him, I know you’re together. You don’t need to hide it." Jensen jerks his head up in surprise and Jared stares at him in with a suddenly doubtful expression, finally asking, "You are … aren’t you?”

“No,” Jensen says. “We’re not.” But Jared thought they were.

Jared runs a hand through his hair. “Well, fuck me.”

Jensen stares at Jared in disbelief, but there's a spark of what-if wonder in there too. “What made you think we were together?”

“You’re joking right? How could anyone not think you’re together?” Jared asked, eyebrows disappearing halfway up his forehead.

“And he was asking for me?” Jensen says unfolding his arms and shifting forward on the cushion. Because maybe he hadn’t misunderstood the almost kiss at all.

“Yep. And he seemed kind of put out when you dashed off. Bawling his eyes out actually, crying ‘where’s Jensen? I want my Jensen’”

Jensen kicked Jared. “Now you’re being a dick. Where is he?” Jensen asks, standing up. Jared grins up at him.

“His trailer. Waiting for the doctor.”

Jensen grabs his sweatshirt and pulls it over his head because he’s gotten cold sitting there so still in only Dean’s t-shirt. “Someone with him?”

“Yeah. Much to his annoyance. He doesn’t want anyone but you,” Jared says, and before Jensen can make a comment, Jared adds. “And that is the truth. Are you sure you’re not… “

“Not yet,” Jensen says, and marches out of his trailer more determined than he’s been about anything for a while.

He opens the door to Misha’s trailer barely a second after his cursory knock. Misha’s lying on the couch with his forearm across his eyes. The couch is too small for him so that his feet are up on one arm rest and his head, buffered by a cushion, on the other. It doesn’t look at all comfortable. The PA who’s sitting with him, Amanda, Jensen thinks her name is, looks at Jensen in profound relief.

“Who is it?” Misha grumbles. He sounds so pissed off that Jensen is suddenly having second thoughts. He may even subconsciously take a step backwards towards the door.

Amanda ignores Misha. “Are you staying?” she asks Jensen with a hint of desperation.

There’s a brief moment when Jensen genuinely thinks about making a run for it but Amanda’s face pleads with him as if she knows he’s about to wimp out and if he does she’ll never speak to him again. He takes a deep breath. “Why? Is he a bad patient?” Amanda doesn’t answer verbally but nods enthusiastically in the affirmative as Misha whips his arm away from his face to stare at Jensen.

“Jensen,” he says and if Jensen ever had any doubt about coming here it fell away as quickly as the tension left Misha’s face.

“Yeah, I’m staying,” Jensen says looking at Misha looking at him. He knew there was something there earlier in the scene and it’s here now too. He can’t tear his eyes away from Misha’s.

Amanda makes a grateful run to the door muttering something about a doctor and not to let Misha fall asleep.

“You didn’t catch me,” Misha accuses as soon as she’s gone.

“I thought you were going to kiss me. It threw me off.” Jensen holds his breath waiting for Misha to laugh off the comment but it doesn’t happen.

“Well, you were going to kiss me back.”

“Yeah,” Jensen says, letting the breath out again. He sits down on the coffee table and brushes Misha’s hair away from the huge wad of lint that someone has plonked over Misha’s head wound. He peaks under it, worried by the size of the dressing, but the cut itself looks fairly small, just in Misha’s hairline, and has stopped bleeding. “Sorry I panicked,” he says, peeling the lint off the wound carefully so that he doesn’t pull away the clot. Misha winces. “Sorry.” Misha waves the apology away.

“I was going to kiss you,” Misha says. “Well, not at first. At first I was just doing Cas stumbling in, but then when I thought you were going to kiss me, at first I thought I’d misunderstood and then I thought oh my god he actually like likes me and I figured I would kiss - umf.“

Jensen doesn’t give him the chance to finish his rambling sentence. He leans in and kisses him. There’ll be no misunderstandings this time around.


End file.
